Ostara
by TheBabeLebowski
Summary: Three weeks after the Red Death fell from the sky, Berk finds solace in the holiday Ostara, the celebration of fertility and rebirth. Hiccup wants nothing more than to celebrate with Astrid, but his leg is making things difficult, not to mention the nightmares that keep him up at night. Inspired by the words leg, desire, warmth, and tears. Coarse language, disturbing themes.
1. Broken

_This is the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic inspired by the submitted inspirational words from you for the Fic Challenge (you submit a word, I write a fic to incorporate it and its themes). The words for this story are_ _ **desire** , __**tears** , __**leg** , and __**warmth**._

 _ **Another note:** Ostara is the celebration of the end of winter, often celebrating fertility, rebirth, and the beginning of the farming season. Day and night become closer to each other in length. Festivities include the painting of eggs and the symbol of the rabbit (fertility). You may know it as Easter. _

* * *

_._

* * *

 **Chapter One: Broken**

 _Hiccup clutched the reins for dear life, the foot secured to Toothless' tail fin mechanism desperately cranking against nothing. Staring up with wide eyes seared by the heat of the Red Death, all he could see was the bulbous tail falling to collide with him. He heard the snap of the connecting rod, the slicing of the air as it was sucked into the flames, sending the skeleton of Toothless' tail fin into the inferno below._

 _"No!" he cried, terror gripping at his heart. They were going to hit it, there was no way he could manipulate both dragon and boy to avoid it. It was going to hit him, shatter him, and take his beloved Night Fury along with it._

 _"No, NO!"_

 _Toothless twisted his body, a shriek building in his blackened throat. Hiccup cringed, bracing himself for impact for a split second before the edge of the tail rammed into his side, obliterating bone and crushing muscle._

 _He was falling, now… Falling towards the searing heat as it blistered the skin of his back through his vest, the back of his neck, the tender skin behind his ears. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, as he flew weightlessly down, down, down…_

 _Throbbing, shooting pain ricocheted up his side, from his leg to his lungs and into his neck. He wanted to scream, vocalize the pain to somehow alleviate it, but he couldn't move. He only felt it grip him in its hot talons, refusing to let him go as he spiralled into madness, alone and destined to hit the ground and break upon it._

 _But he didn't hit the ground. He just kept falling, his leg sending him into fits of screams. Toothless, you were supposed to catch me. You were supposed to catch me and, oh gods, my leg. My leg, my fu – my leg! Gods, please, anything but this, just chop it off! It burns, I can't – it – no, no no NO!_

"NO!"

Hiccup sucked in a jagged breath, choking upon it as his eyes snapped open. Flinging his feeble arms into the thin air around him, he met nothing but the familiar fur of his father's tunic.

"Son, I'm here, it's me," he murmured gently, firm enough to shake his son from his night terror. "You're havin' a nightmare, everything is fine!"

Hiccup couldn't get a breath down as he grabbed for his blankets. He tore them to the side as Toothless warbled next to him. The Night Fury, eager to help, tugged at the edge of the blanket and pulled it down, considering they couldn't pull it away entirely with Stoick sitting on the bed. Revealing his naked legs to the fresh air of the room, Hiccup desperately reached for the ghost of his ankle. His fingers connected with the blankets beneath him. He seized them and squeezed them until his knuckles were as white as his face.

"Calm your breathing," Stoick ordered, resting a heavy hand on Hiccup's back.

"I-It hurts!" Hiccup choked. "It hurts, why does it hurt?!"

"Your leg –"

"My _foot_!" Hiccup cried. "It burns!"

Stoick grabbed Hiccup's hands and pried them from the bed. Holding his tiny hands in massive stony encasements, Stoick squeezed Hiccup's fingers and pulled him close. His son didn't think twice; he buried his face in Stoick's chest, wanting to scream, but only able to whimper as his stump of a leg throbbed insistently with the fluttering beat of his heart, constantly reminding him that though he had lost a part of himself, he could not escape it.

* * *

Tired and gaunt, Hiccup broke his fast at home, out of sight and out of the way. He had eaten in the Great Hall over the past few weeks after Dragon Island, but with the painful swelling of his shortened limb, paired with almost-nightly terrors and random bouts of pain, he preferred to stay at home.

However, it didn't mean he didn't try to recover. Done with his food – which had barely been eaten at all – he pushed himself away from the table and supported himself with the wall. He stood on his right leg, refusing to put his prosthetic to the stone out of fear of pain. He knew he would feel it, and he knew it would hurt more than anything. He knew that the moment the metal connected with the solid ground, he'd fall to his knees, adding to the layers of bruising upon them.

But with every bruise came the proof that he had tried. So, with a deep breath held in his lungs and the night terror lingering in the back of his mind, he put his foot down. The metal scraped gingerly upon the rock, lightly hovering over it. He placed more pressure upon it. He felt the brittle spring inside compress, and the fresh scars of his stump pressed into the wooden cup stuffed with wool. He pulled up once to compose himself before he placed his weight on it completely. He pushed himself forward, arms out to balance himself, as he wobbled forward.

He managed to take three steps before his body tensed too much.

It wasn't only his leg that kept him up at night. Limping and tensing constantly over the better part of a moon had sent the muscles in his hips, back, shoulders, and thighs into stiffness. Sleep was fraught with terror and exhaustion. The only energy he had left to spare was to fly.

Toothless slid his head under Hiccup's hand as he balanced in place. Hiccup relaxed slightly and leaned into his dragon. "Thanks, bud," he murmured. He cleared his throat and saw sunlight peek under the door. He hobbled towards it, leaning against Toothless, and opened it. Sunlight poured into the house, blinding him for a moment. When his eyes adjusted, he clamoured onto Toothless' back and the pair of them left the house.

Hiccup was only prepared for a simple flight. But, as if the gods wanted to tempt or torment him, he immediately saw his newfound friends soaring overhead. Hookfang, Snotlout's newly named Monstrous Nightmare, twisted through the air like an eel, his rider laughing and whooping. The twins raced after him while Fishlegs bumbled behind, not really paying attention to the chaos ahead but happy to be in the air.

But he didn't linger upon those dragon riders. A curious and innocent urge to see one more made him crane his neck and turn his head. He didn't see the Deadly Nadder swoop in after Snotlout, and he didn't see Astrid out and about. A small twinge of disappointment distracted him from the pain for a single second.

He hadn't seen her that often after Dragon Island. It took a week for him to come to completely, after Gothi and her band of healers continuously fed him medicinal herbs that were to help the healing process and replenish his strength. But when he did, Astrid had sauntered up to him, delivered a swift punch to his shoulder, and followed up with his first kiss.

When he wasn't berated by the night terrors – which was a newer symptom to add to his never-ending road to recovery – he thought of that kiss. Astrid Hofferson, the one girl he fantasized about (especially when he had accepted the fact he would never have a chance with her), had embraced him and taken that milestone. Her lips tasted like the food she had eaten that morning – a subtle smokiness paired with meat and mead – and her skin smelled of ocean air. The way his heart leapt within his breast reminded him of his first flight.

He wanted to experience that once more. They were on the cusp of something new, and he wanted more than anything to explore that with her. He was excited to have her as a friend, let alone a friend that kissed him occasionally. She was also the first person he had managed to convince when it came to the dragon debacle, and she had adapted to Berk's changes beautifully.

Hiccup sighed and gently grabbed the reins of Toothless' saddle.

"Ready?" he asked.

But a flash of blue and yellow forced him to duck. Stormfly's familiar croak startled Hiccup as he looked up from his protected position. Toothless wriggled about as Stormfly landed in front of him. Astrid smiled, her cheeks red from the chilled air and her hair unruly from the flight. With the grace of her dragon, she leapt off her back and landed on the ground. Hiccup couldn't help but notice how she staggered her landing, first landing on one foot before the other. The way her knees bent and the way her ankles moved to push her towards him was something that brought unwelcome envy into the pit of his stomach.

"You're outside!" she sassily noticed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not _that_ pale, am I?" Hiccup asked, scoffing, a crooked grin splayed over his worn face. He suddenly became very aware that his hand was squeezing his left thigh. He moved his hand reluctantly, though more reluctant to show Astrid any sign of weakness.

"I was talking to the others," she breathlessly accounted, "and they wanted me to ask you about Ostara."

Hiccup blinked and jerked his head back, confused. "Ostara?" he asked. It wasn't that he didn't know of the celebration. In fact, it was one he was particularly fond of. Ostara marked the end of winter with a massive celebration, a homage to the goddesses Eostre and Freyja for fertility of their livestock, their fields, and, of course, their women. Berk's women were celebrated through massive feasts of the remainder of the stores, dancing, games, and weddings. For weeks afterwards, pregnancy announcements would be a constant happy happenstance.

Even though Hiccup himself was not interested in weddings or pregnancy as he approached the tender age of sixteen, he did love anything the signalled the end of winter.

"Ostara," Astrid repeated. "Has your dad said anything to you about plans?"

Hiccup twisted his mouth and shook his head. "No, I haven't really seen my dad," he admitted.

He remembered clinging to his tunic the night previously, screaming and groaning into him as his leg spasmed and burned and tensed beyond sanity.

"Oh," Astrid sighed, slightly disappointed.

"I'm sure he's thinking about it!" Hiccup said quickly, not wanting to see her sad. "That's probably why I haven't seen him."

Astrid nodded and smiled again. "Most likely!"

They stared at each other, two youngsters beaming at the other with grins that could be seen from the docks. Astrid swayed awkwardly before she looked at Hiccup's leg. She motioned to it.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. Stormfly bumped her arm and Astrid scratched her head as Hiccup winced.

"Uh… I'm fine. It's good," he replied, grimacing at his falseness. "Taking a few extra steps a day."

He met her wary gaze with disinclination. He wondered how she felt about him, now that he had lost a significant part of himself. What did she see? Something broken?

"If you're up for it, would you maybe want to go for a flight?" she suddenly asked.

Hiccup's mind suddenly leapt onto a single path. His heart jumped and his gut filled with the warm fluttering of butterflies. He stared at her flushed cheeks, her blue eyes, the way she lovingly attended her new dragon. He had been so used to her adverseness as a fighter and future dragon slayer. Her scowling face riddled with determination to achieve the impossible goals of defending Berk from dragons had transformed. No longer was her skin contorted into dismaying anger and feisty determination. She was smiling, glowing brilliantly. Hiccup could hardly contain himself.

"Yes!" he agreed, throwing caution to the wind. "I would love –"

"Son, there you are."

Stoick lumbered up to Hiccup as he remained on the threshold of their house. Behind him was a small entourage of healers. Borgný, a young and beautiful unmarried woman nodded to him as she carried a basket of poultices into the house. Hailaga, another healer renowned for having a haughty attitude paired with insomnia and old age, immediately marched up to Hiccup's left side. She reached her intruding hands up to his stump.

Hiccup wrenched his body to instinctively avoid her touch, tensing everything to lift it out of the way. Annoyed, she reached up and grabbed his knee. Hiccup gasped and Toothless pulled him to safety, baring his teeth to the healer and threatening to blow her to bits. Hiccup grabbed his thigh once more, wincing and cringing as new waves of pain reverberated up his left side. He squeezed his watering eyes shut.

"What are you _doing_?!" he heard.

He opened his eyes and saw Astrid throwing her arms up to Hailaga. Her scowl from the days before was back in full force, and he observed the muscles in her exposed triceps tense and move under her skin.

Hailaga glowered at Astrid's interference as Borgný returned from the inner confines of the house, silently concerned. She merely hovered her hands over Hiccup's leg assuring him she would not touch it as Astrid and Hailaga scorned each other. The tension could have cut overcooked meat.

"I'm trying to do my duty," Hailaga retorted. "And I can't do that if you're in my way!"

"You don't walk up to someone who has lost a limb and _grab it_!" Astrid replied. "How dare –"

"Astrid, enough," Stoick interjected. He gently clasped her shoulders as Hiccup groaned. He led her away.

"Do you need help dismounting?" Borgný asked Hiccup quietly, shooting Hailaga a glance. Hailaga remained poised in front of Hiccup, one of her large hips parked in the air and her face shooting daggers into the back of Astrid's head. Hiccup shook his head, still regaining his breathing, as he eavesdropped.

"You can't be standoffish like that to our healers," Stoick told her, though the tone of his voice betrayed which side he was truly on.

"She made him jump," she told him. "He's in pain, he doesn't need someone making it worse."

"They're here to help," the chief reiterated. He ran a hand over his eyes, tired and at a loss.

" _I_ can help better than she can," Astrid hissed. "My mother is a healer, she taught me –"

"No," Stoick immediately replied. "As much as I appreciate it… Hiccup needs someone with more experience."

Astrid glared slightly, furrowing her blonde brows as assumptions bubbled in her mind. "…Is it really that bad?"

Stoick didn't respond. He gave Astrid a reassuring nod and turned to return to his son. Hiccup frowned as Astrid watched after him. He didn't want to see her upset.

He dismounted Toothless and hobbled back into the house, refusing to look over his shoulder as Astrid flew away.

Hailaga was hot on his heels, almost rushing him inside as she loomed over him. Stoick was the last inside. He shut the door as Toothless slinked in, crawling to a nearby corner to keep watch of Hailaga, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Can you believe that Hofferson girl?!" she huffed. She went to the supplies Borgný had set upon the table and took the poultices from the basket. She practically slammed the pottery upon the table as Borgný helped Hiccup sit on the side of his bed. "How dare she – _how dare she_ – here I am, called from my nap – _my only sleep of the week,_ may I add – only to be met with insubordination and disrespect!"

"She was only trying to help," Borgný murmured as she unclipped Hiccup's prosthetic leg from the rest of him. "Her mother –"

"I don't _care_ if Sigourney is a healer. So am I, and I'll be damned if I'm replaced by her hot-headed daughter after all this hassle."

Hiccup didn't say anything. But, in the name of all things holy, he wanted to. The last person in the world he wanted in the room with him was Hailaga. The fact that Stoick would bring her to help him was almost laughable. Borgný helping him from his trousers also preoccupied him. Hiccup felt his cheeks grow red hot as the young woman pulled the pants that he had spent most of his morning putting on off. Stoick respectfully looked away until they had placed a blanket over Hiccup's lap.

Hailaga, muttering about like a Gronckle hankering for a boulder feast, filled a bowl with water already hot over the fire. Borgný unwrapped Hiccup's leg and rested the bandages to the side. His wound had been stitched haphazardly on the ship ride home from Dragon Island, and the scar it left behind was ugly and distorted. Puckering at an angle, it had healed over save for the area that rested against the bottom of the cup of his metal leg, which was red. The entire stump was swollen and bruising in areas, and his knees were swollen from falling on them so often.

Borgný took a cloth doused in hot water and cleaned his stump as Stoick watched from across the room. The ladies worked in focussed silence (which, in the case of Hailaga, was a blessing). Hiccup looked up to Stoick, willing to talk about anything other than what was happening.

"Astrid asked me about Ostara," he mentioned, grimacing as Borgný dabbed at his scars. Stoick took in a breath and nodded.

"Aye, I was in talk with Gobber and some of the other villagers week before last," was the gruff reply. Stoick yawned and stretched his neck. Guilt spread over Hiccup slowly. He looked down at the top of Borgný's head, watching her work. She pulled the rag away, revealing pink splotches upon the cloth. She rinsed it and returned.

Hiccup squirmed and twitched his leg, another ghost-like sensation creeping up. He tried to ignore it, but soon he was bouncing his leg up and down.

Borgný looked up at him as he twitched his leg. "Try to keep still."

"I can't," Hiccup claimed apologetically. "My foot, it's itchy."

Borgný smiled and placed her hand over Hiccup's right foot. She went to scratch it, but Hiccup shook his head.

"The other one," he muttered.

Hailaga, Borgný, and Stoick all peered at Hiccup's fallen face as he struggled against an itch he couldn't possibly scratch.

Borgný continued to press Hiccup's leg, though everyone in the room had an air of concern about them. Everyone except Hailaga, at least.

"It's to be expected," she said bluntly. "People who lose limbs often feel them there for weeks, moons, or even winters after the fact."

Hiccup looked up at her through his bangs, his face becoming more and more dishevelled as she spoke.

"And from what your dad says, you've been keeping him awake at night with your bad dreams."

"You make it sound like an inconvenience," Stoick muttered angrily.

"Isn't that what it is, though?" Hailaga bravely replied. "With Ostara coming up, and with Berk changing so rapidly with, in my humble opinion if it's welcome –"

"– it's not –" Hiccup whispered, though only Borgný heard it.

"– these _dragons_ are no less a nuisance than what they were before. They still terrify the livestock, a single sneeze razes a field, they're keeping me up at night!"

"As if you sleep anyway," Hiccup spoke up, angry and tired and done with the sound of her voice. Hailaga snapped her lizard-like gaze towards him and opened a jar of salve.

"I'm amazed you show fealty to these creatures, especially after one broke your leg and the other one bit it off."

Stoick waved a hand. "Hailaga –"

"He didn't bite my leg off!" Hiccup said exasperatedly. "He saved my life!"

"He gave you a life with bad dreams and a limp, that's what he gave you."

"Get out."

Hailaga almost dropped the poultice when Stoick grabbed her by the arm with one hand and hauled the door open with the other.

"How dare you?!" Stoick growled in her ear as he hauled her to the door. "How _dare_ you speak to my son like that!"

Hailaga gasped as the chief practically threw her out, suddenly furious. Hailaga spun as soon as she regained her footing.

"If you claim his night terrors are 'bad dreams' again, I'll have you thrown off this island faster than Jurgen Barnstadt!" Stoick bellowed. Villagers all paused as Hailaga cowered upon the pathway, ashamed and humiliated. Stoick slammed the door, making Hiccup cringe again. It had hit the doorframe so hard that it bounced open again.

Hiccup didn't look up as has father turned around and sank heavily into one of the chairs by the table. Tears welled up in Hiccup's eyes as Borgný rubbed the salve into his scabbed wounds. She then wrapped his leg in cotton strips, pulling them tight to battle the swelling. She left without another word, glancing for a moment into the cup of Hiccup's makeshift leg. She pulled the wool from it and discarded so she could replace it. Without another word, she took her basket and her supplies to the door. She offered Stoick a slight bow before she walked through the open door. She shut it behind her gently, leaving Hiccup and Stoick alone.

They remained silent for a moment while Hiccup grabbed his pants. He wanted to put them on, cover himself up, but the idea of pathetically trying to dress himself in front of his father was one he didn't want to execute. Stoick removed his helmet and let his head fall back so he could crack it. Hiccup stared at the pants in his hands, tears swimming in front of his vision.

"I'm sorry I didn't throw her out sooner," Stoick sighed, clearing his throat. "She had no right –"

He heard Hiccup sniff, trying to hide his tears under his bangs. Stoick looked over as Hiccup refused to move.

Stoick stood and lumbered over. He sat next to Hiccup, wanting to console him, but his stoic tendencies bled out.

"I know it's hard, Hiccup," he began. "But you will get better, and it will be easier as time goes on."

Hiccup nodded, a slight bob of the head, and Stoick sighed. He rubbed his hands together. "I have to go talk to some people about Ostara. Maybe that will cheer you up, I know you like it."

All he received was another tiny nod. So Stoick turned around, sure Hiccup wanted space, and left the house. As soon as the sunlight was shut out of the house, Hiccup arched his back, slowly crumpling into his own lap. He wrapped his hands around his neck and the back of his head, wanting to scream. The tears came in racking sobs as memories of his leg, Dragon Island, and the humiliation Hailaga threw at him slammed into him as hard as the Red Death's tail.


	2. Night Terrors

_Hopefully, you all like the second chapter. This chapter is shorter than the others, but PREPARE YOURSELF. There is a HUGE chappie coming your way tomorrow. :)_

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Night Terrors**

The feast on the eve of Ostara was one of bountiful splendour. Eager to clear out the stores of their winter supplies to avoid wasting any food that was ready to spoil, the villagers gorged and rejoiced as meat, dried fruits, nuts, and mead graced the tables of the Meade Hall. Drunken shenanigans, loud celebration, and the continuous dancing and merriment were unavoidable as everyone celebrated the end of winter.

It was hard to believe that the festivities tomorrow would be even grander. Already, the maypole was erected in the centre of the village and the children had painted chicken eggs with whatever they had at their disposal. Even Astrid, who didn't possess the most artistic disposition, painted a quail's egg. The tiny item could be held in the palm of her slender hand, a small bauble splattered in blue, yellow, and red paint. She held it in her hand, looking throughout the Meade Hall for Hiccup.

Astrid didn't see Hiccup for the better part of a week after the day Hailaga was thrown from the Haddock house like a sack of rotten potatoes. She had heard Stoick bellow something about night terrors. Astrid clutched her fingers around the egg, careful not to crush it, but needed to squeeze it as she thought of the night terrors her mother experienced in her own home. The idea that Hiccup was going through those made her stomach turn.

"Heeeey, As'rid!"

Astrid turned and saw Snotlout stumble up to her, a mug of mead in each hand. Honey brown liquid sloshed over the lips of the mugs as he flashed her a goofy grin.

"You're drunk already?" she jeered.

"You're not?" Snotlout slurred. Any opportunity for Snotlout to 'kick his feet back and enjoy a hearty cup o' ale' was one he seized with full commitment. He offered her a mug as he downed the other one, belching when finished. Astrid groaned and shoved the offered alcohol away.

"Piss off," she said. Snotlout wrinkled his face and mocked her.

"What crawled up _your_ butt?" he asked, a flicker of sober concern barely there.

He wouldn't remember the answer when he woke up the next day, so Astrid sighed and looked out the double doors only a few feet away.

"Hiccup isn't here."

Snotlout snorted. "Pssh. He's pro'lly at home. He lost a leg, 'member?"

Astrid sneered at him. Of course she knew that. That was all she could think about. But she knew, even though they weren't close before, that he didn't appreciate being cooped up inside all the time. That, and the idea that no one bothered to invite him anywhere was something she thought about increasingly.

"I should invite him out," she vocalized, looking back out the door.

Snotlout snorted. "Why?" he asked, laughing. "Let's jus' ask the cripple to come out to dance 'round the maypoles, hmm? He'd feel _soooo_ much better."

"Okay, Snotlout," Astrid hissed at him, suddenly very done with the conversation. "Why don't you go back to the feast?"

"Why?" Snotlout pouted.

"Because I am one second away from literally punching your nose through the back of your skull."

And even when intoxicated, Snotlout knew when to leave Astrid be. He turned on his heel and staggered back to the crowd while Astrid pursed her lips angrily. Part of her thanked the fact that she held a tiny egg in her hand to avoid her from breaking it.

* * *

Hiccup's body ached and begged him to sit down as his legs shook under his weight. He kept his eyes locked upon Toothless, sweat beading upon his brow and dripping onto his eyelids. He held a foundation column sequestered in the corner of the house and took a couple deep breaths. He pushed from it and walked to Toothless. Limping at a painfully slow pace, he sucked in shrill breaths as the pain shot up his side with every step.

The healers told him to stay in bed. Hiccup didn't tell them that that wasn't an option. He had spent most of his life as the village disappointment. If anything went wrong, it would be his fault. If someone needed to be blamed, his name would come up. And for a short period of time, after he woke up the first time to see dragons soaring over Berk rather than attacking it, he'd had a taste of acceptance. He, like the dragons, was becoming more welcome on the island. People actually didn't mind he was to inherit his father's place as chief of Berk. But now, he faced yet another dilemma. He couldn't walk. His leg hurt too much, and he wasn't sure what to do. The healers looked at him with pity.

So he forced himself to walk. Refusing to believe the seemingly inevitable curse that would be his missing left leg – with all it's ghost-like spasms, itches, and pains – Hiccup staggered over to Toothless one step at a time, gritting his teeth. And today, he was able to get across the room without help and without falling onto his knees.

He touched his dragon's snout, relaxing as he revelled in his success. He had made it. At least today, he could say his leg didn't entirely beat him.

His nightmares, on the other hand, were something else entirely.

He needed to get out of the house to get some fresh air, to distract himself from the setting sun. He wanted to take part in the festivities and stop lying in bed while his leg didn't improve, regardless of whether or not he walked upon it.

Lying in bed didn't stop the pain, or the itching, or the burning. Nothing did. So he saw no use in staying put.

There was a knock on the door, and Hiccup stood upright.

"Who is it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Umm… it's Astrid," was the equally hesitant reply.

"Let yourself in!"

Astrid pushed open the door and walked in. He watched her kick the door shut with the back of her boot, the sight of her entering the orange light of the fire sending warmth into the bottom of Hiccup's heart, right up against the fluttering in his stomach. She brushed her blonde bangs out of her face with one hand and kept the other in a tentatively gentle fist. She smiled at him.

"You weren't at the feast," she said. "Are you alright?"

Hiccup nodded, leaning against Toothless even more. "I wasn't hungry."

Astrid crossed the room and offered to help him walk to his bed. But he politely waved her away and hobbled over himself, proud to show her that he could at least walk for a short time. He sat on the bed heavily and resisted the urge to hold his knee.

"Oh," Astrid sighed, looking to the floor.

"How is it?" he asked.

"Everyone is drunk," she replied bluntly, running a hand over her face. "Snotlout has his face in a bucket and the twins are go sloshed they can't figure out if they're staring at each other or themselves in a moving mirror."

"So… nothing's different."

The two laughed lightly. Hiccup looked at her up and down.

"You're not drinking?" he asked her.

Astrid flicked her eyes up, the ghost of her smile still upon her mouth. "What? Oh, no. Just enough to wash my food down, but I don't get drunk."

Hiccup leaned back on his hands. He didn't know that about her before.

"Surprised?" she asked.

Hiccup shrugged. "I didn't really think about it. But… maybe? I don't know."

He rubbed his knee as it began to cramp, relaxing from finally resting. Astrid watched him.

"So… Hailaga got an earful from your dad, hey?"

Hiccup's hand froze upon his leg, his eyes fastened to his fingers as cold entered his gut, freezing the butterflies in his belly to hard rocks. His ears warmed as embarrassment flooded over. She noticed.

"I didn't mean to –"

"It's fine," Hiccup said quickly, desperate to avoid the conversation. "She – she was wrong about what she said."

"She's batshit crazy if you ask me," Astrid muttered, twisting her mouth and raising her eyebrow as as she fiddled with her hands.

And for the first time in weeks, Hiccup laughed. Not just a slight chuckle mixed with nervousness or sarcasm, but a hearty laugh. Just the idea of Hailaga's eyes bugging out of her head if she ever heard Astrid say that made his heart a little lighter. And Astrid couldn't help but snicker and cover her mouth as she tried to stifle her own laughter. She wasn't one for swearing, but the words flew out of her mouth faster than she could filter them. Riding the tide of good cheer, Astrid smiled and cleared her throat.

"So, if you're feeling up for it, will you come out to the maypole dancing tomorrow?"

Hiccup faltered again, thinking of the pain in his left side. But he retrieved that crooked half-smile once more. "I'm going to give it my best shot."

Astrid beamed and walked up to him. She held out her closed hand. Hiccup looked up at her, then slowly lowered his eyes to her fist. He lifted his hand and she dropped the quail egg into his palm.

"Happy Ostara," she murmured to him. She leaned down and pecked his cheek. She spun around and left the house before Hiccup could see the redness of her cheeks, the very same red she had bestowed upon the shell in his grasp.

* * *

Astrid stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. She listened to the sound of her own breathing as she took one in, let it out, took one in, let it out. She couldn't sleep. She had given up on that hours ago. She had this feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if she had swallowed a rock at the Ostara feast. And any time she tried to think of something good – Hiccup's face when she gave him the egg she made for him, the sight of Snotlout and the twins lying in a pile, or the dragons running about excitedly – something grabbed the inside of her and twisted it around painfully.

It was the same feeling she got just before something bad happened. She got it the night her father was killed by a Nadder. She got it the day her mother was attacked by a Nightmare. She got it just before Hiccup and Toothless accidentally took her to Dragon Island. So she lied there, restless and focussing on her breaths, waiting.

She heard a creaking noise below her. Her mother rolled around in her bed, shifting to her side to get comfortable. Astrid tensed, her hands rested upon her flat stomach, as she heard her mother groan. She twisted and left her bed, grabbing the candle she had left lit since the feeling started. It was all like clockwork – Astrid would have a feeling, lose a night of sleep, hear her mother downstairs, leave her bed, and go to her. After all, no one else was there to do it.

Astrid crept down the stairs as she heard her mother's movements become more erratic. Whimpers, throwing a blanket on the floor. Astrid landed at the bottom of the stairs and walked calmly to her mother's bedroom. Along the way, she grabbed her axe from the doorframe and brought it into the room with her.

Her mother was on her side, her hand clutching her upper arm. Quick, panicked breaths shook the room as Astrid crawled into the bed with her. She wrapped a free arm around Sigourney, pulling her into her lap.

"Hey, mama," Astrid whispered, brushing her hands over Sigourney's blonde curls wet with sweat. "It's Astrid."

Her mother didn't reply, disconnected in the memory of the night her arm was torn from her body. Astrid's eyes drifted down to her mother's other arm, which had been reduced to a stump above the elbow two years ago. Horribly disfigured from the dragon attack, Sigourney was unable to continue her practice as Gothi's primary healer. It was devastating to the family when Sigourney lost her working arm the year after Astrid's father was killed during a different dragon raid. All of Astrid's rage, her willingness to avenge the damage dragons had done to her family, had managed to morph into compassionate love for the creatures.

But tonight, she was back in her protective stance. Astrid squeezed her mother's arm, careful to avoid the stump where her elbow used to be. Sigourney groaned again and trembled, her face contorting in pain and fear. Astrid leaned down and kissed the top of Sigourney's head. She brought the axe up and rested it across the two pair of legs in the bed. The weight of it calmed her mother, grounded her into the bedframe. It was a consistent reminder that Astrid was there with her.

"I'm here," she said.

Her mother opened her eyes, though still trapped in her torment. Just like all the nights before, Astrid recited her questions.

"Do you know where you are?"

She asked that question over and over until her mother managed to whimper, "Home."

"What do you see?"

"Y-your shirt? Walls. Blanket."

"What do you feel?"

"My – my arm," her mother groaned. "It burns –"

"It's okay," Astrid murmured, resting her cheek on her mother's forehead. "Everything is okay."

She knew her mother wasn't talking about the arm she still had. Rather, the arm she had lost two years ago was what did this to her. Even though the Nightmare that caused her night terrors was long dead and gone, she saw him in her mind at a moment's notice. And Astrid was the only one left to protect her.

"I'm here," Astrid whispered. "I'm here."

By the time her mother calmed and rested into slumber once more, the sun's rays kissed the tops of the mountains. The candle was long burnt out, and Sigourney slept upon Astrid's shoulder as Astrid rested her head against the wall. All she could think of as her heavy eyelids slowly closed was that elsewhere in the village Hiccup was going through the same thing.


	3. The Maypole Dance

**Chapter Three: The Maypole Dance**

Astrid yawned as she picked away at her food, her appetite a fleeting memory. Resting her cheek upon her palm, and her elbow upon the edge of the table, she let her eyes droop and drift shut as everyone else ran about. She heard people confirm the time for the maypole dancing, the fertility celebrations, the blessings… but everything sounded like a dream. She'd drift in and out of conversations as if they weren't really happening. All she wanted to do was sleep. She yawned again and tired tears covered her eyelashes.

"You should go back to bed, child."

She opened her eyes with a start as her mother sat across from her. Her hair was still in its braid from that morning, still as tight as Astrid had tied it. Her face was pale and the space under her brown eyes was blue and purpled from lack of sleep. Her gaunt cheeks forced a delicate shadow beneath her cheekbones, and her lips were pink from sipping at hot tea. Her woolly half-cloak covered her deformed arm while the other brought food up to her mouth.

"I'm fine," Astrid mumbled. But Sigourney didn't look convinced.

"Astrid, I know you're tired."

Astrid sighed as she stared at her food, wanting nothing more than to shut her eyes again. "I'm _fine_ ," she repeated with exasperated emphasis.

Sigourney pursed her thin lips. She bowed her head to her food and continued eating as Astrid let her eyes fall shut again.

"How is the Haddock boy?" Sigourney asked after she swallowed her mouthful.

Ever since Hiccup had lost his leg, Sigourney had asked to help with his recovery. However, missing her leading arm provided a hassle that most of the other healers didn't want to deal with, so she was left on the outside. It frustrated Astrid beyond belief; if she could help Hiccup, or even talk to him, then maybe he'd be able to have a speedier recovery.

But she had also seen Astrid kiss him, and she wouldn't let Astrid forget it. Boldly kissing the chief's son in front of the entire village was something no woman had done in the history of Berk, as far as Sigourney was concerned.

" _Mama_ ," Astrid breathed, not wanting to be embarrassed again. But Sigourney jerked her head back.

"Oh, I'm not asking about _that_ ," she quickly said, waving a hand. "I'm wondering about his health."

"He's teaching himself to walk again," she sighed. "Hailaga was charged with him last week."

"Odin save him," Sigourney muttered into her mug before she drank from it.

"Stoick threw her out of the house after only a few minutes," Astrid continued, her energy perking up with the taste of gossip on her tongue. "He threatened to throw her off the island."

"They should have done that years ago. When she tried to help me after my arm, I wanted to strangle her. Thankfully for her, I only had one hand."

"You know, I'd –"

"You're not strangling any of the healers, dear."

Astrid scoffed and ate some more of her food. Sigourney smiled at her daughter – her pride and treasure. Astrid met her eyes and immediately looked away.

"You're restless. What else?" her mother asked.

Astrid clasped her hands, wincing slightly as Sigourney's hawk-like eyes burrowed into her skin.

"I think Hiccup has been having nightmares," Astrid murmured quietly so no one else could hear. "And I don't think his leg is getting much better."

Sigourney paused and flicked her fingers clean of crumbs. She watched her daughter with firm intent, serious.

"He hasn't been to the Hall for dinner, he isn't flying Toothless, and he didn't go to the feast last night."

Sigourney sighed, trying to make sense of it. "He _did_ lose a significant part of himself, Astrid. He may not be up for it."

"Well, I invited him out to the maypole dances today. Maybe he'll come. I mean, he said he would."

Sigourney smiled. "You're really hoping he'll be there."

"I hope he's alright," Astrid corrected. "I just… I don't think the healers are doing their best."

"Most never do when friends are involved. Or family."

The two ate for a while before Sigourney playfully looked up.

"Since you're planning on dancing for the maypole ceremony, are you going to wear that dress you refused to wear last year?"

"Oh my gods, mama."

* * *

Hiccup tried to ignore the stares he received as Toothless carried him from his house to the maypole at the centre of the village. He wanted to walk, by the gods all he wanted to do was walk, but he decided to save the hard part for later. At least he was able to get some fresh air after last night.

Luckily, he didn't have a nightmare. But he was in too much pain to get any real sleep, so Hiccup couldn't help but feel cheated. So he held his heavy head up as high as he could and let Toothless carry him up the hill to the meadow just off the main path where everyone was gathering. He looked down at himself and brushed himself off as subtly as he could. He wore the cleaner pair trousers out of the two he owned, and wore his green shirt he only wore for special occasions. But he threw his fur vest over top of that to keep himself from shivering.

Almost everyone else was in the meadow and mingled around the tall maypole Stoick had commissioned from various villagers. It was a tall tree stripped of its branches and erected in the cold earth. Strung from the top of the yellow pine were ribbons of different colours Johann had procured at Stoick's request. The ends of the ribbons were secured to the ground with pegs lest the wind tangle them.

The women wore their best dresses, taking a break from their armour for a day of dancing and merriment. Villagers from the other isles had anchored their ships in the bay and were excitedly catching up with Berkians, discussing their new alliance with the dragons while some looked on warily. Hiccup relaxed as soon as he saw Gobber at the mouth of the meadow confiscating weapons into his wagon to avoid any confrontation.

Some of the women wore braided crowns of snowberries and wildflowers in their hair, gifted to them by men who wanted to see them dance. Hiccup looked down at his lap at the crown he had made. Using vines that crawled up the back of his house, he created a simple circlet wherein he intertwined wild purple _blåveis_ and pale yellow _kusymre_ into it. It was difficult to round up any flowers at this time of year, considering his circumstances, but a quick flight with Toothless up into the hills proved bountiful. He only hoped Astrid liked it as much as he liked her quail egg.

Toothless walked into the crowd, sniffing about for any of the other dragon riders. Most of the people were around the long table set up with enough food and mead to last, and Fishlegs and the twins could hardly get enough. The three of them waved joyfully with mouths full and chins greasy with meat as Toothless continued. Hiccup shyly returned the wave.

"Heeeey, Hic –"

Hiccup watched Snotlout stumble up to him, his face plastered with a smile that split his face in half. "You made it!"

Hiccup could smell the mead on him. "You know, that mead is for _everyone_ ," Hiccup joked.

"I _am_ er'ryone," Snotlout snorted. "So _bam_!"

And that was the end of that.

"You made it!"

Hiccup turned as soon as he heard Astrid's voice. She wriggled by a handful of villagers surrounding Toothless and Hiccup, many of which were from other tribes and had not yet seen the duo that took down the Red Death. But Astrid didn't stop. She ran to him, stopping next to him.

She wasn't wearing her usual outfit. She wasn't even wearing a variation of it. Her tight shirt and leather skirt had been replaced by a cream linen dress with an overdress of sapphire blue. Silver brooches secured the overdress' straps over her shoulders, and a strand of bone-beads and bear claws was suspended between them over her chest. A braided cingulum cinched her dress at her slender waist. Her long sleeves buttoned around her wrists, and her golden hair was braided behind her head intricately. His eyes lingered on the circlet she had chosen to wear. Most unmarried women left their heads bare so they could wear a crown if one was made for them. He felt his shoulders fall slightly.

"I'm so happy you were able to make it!" Astrid said, giving Toothless a scratch behind the ears. "They're about to start the dance."

The women wearing gifted crowns hovered at the ribbons, eager to start.

"Why haven't they started yet?" Hiccup asked.

"They don't have an even number," Astrid sighed, peering to the maypole. "They were so desperate, they asked Ruffnut."

"Why don't you do it?" Hiccup asked, a smile tugging at his lips. Astrid looked up, her cheeks pink.

"Me? Dance? Oh, I don't know," Astrid rambled. "I don't dance, and I didn't get a crown, and I wasn't expecting to, but –"

Hiccup sheepishly offered her the crown he had spent most of the day making, and her jaw dropped. She looked at it, then at him, then at the maypole, and back to the crown. She lifted her hands to take it, but stopped herself.

"You – you made this for me?"

Hiccup grinned and shrugged one of his shoulders. "A gift for a gift," he stated. He lifted it and placed it upon her head. It fit snuggly over her circlet. Once it was on, she touched it with her fingertips. Hiccup wanted to laugh as her face grew hot and scarlet.

He dismounted Toothless carefully and ignored the stares and whispers as Astrid braced his landing. He rested his weight on his leg and took a deep breath.

"I'm alright," he said, actually believing it. She grabbed his hand and walked with him to the edge of the villagers. The women, giddy with excitement, unwrapped the ribbons from the securing pegs. Astrid made it to the edge of the crowd and let go of Hiccup's hand. She looked at the maypole and sighed heavily.

"Nervous?" Hiccup asked.

"It's a maypole. How hard can it be?" But she shifted and stretched her neck as if she was getting ready to chop the maypole down rather than dance around it with a ribbon. "It's the end of the dance I'm worried about."

"What?"

Astrid's face fell slightly from her excited anxiety to careful worry. "They… changed the dance slightly. Stoick… didn't your dad tell you?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "If I had a coin for every time – what's the catch? Are we adding Terrors to the dance? Or Snotlout?"

Astrid didn't reply, a look betraying her face. Hiccup's jaw dropped. "Wait, seriously?"

"He didn't add dragons, but… the men that gave the women the crowns take turns dancing beside them. One of those is, unfortunately, Snotlout. Hurray. It's an eastern thing, apparently, and because we want to make them feel better about dragons, we wanted to cater to them."

It didn't sink in immediately. But when it did, Hiccup's leg began to hurt again. He would have to dance with Astrid? He would have to take a ribbon and skip about as if he didn't have his leg obliterated just over a moon ago? He wanted to hurl, and Astrid could see it. She reached up for her crown, willing to remove it to spare Hiccup the trouble. But before Hiccup could reconsider, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away gently.

"It's fine," he said shakily. "I'll do what I can. Go ahead."

"Are you –"

"Go before they start without you!" Hiccup laughed, giving her a small push. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it before she ran to the maypole, grabbing the last ribbon in her fingers. Stoick stood with the musicians as they stopped their music, starting over with a fiddle tune and a drum beat. The women all lifted their ribbons over their heads, smiling widely or nervously, as everyone else cheered.

"Yeah, go Borg – Bor – Borgný!" Snotlout hiccupped, toasting the young healer Hiccup became acquainted with over the past few weeks. He saw her on the other side of the maypole snicker and look away, her crown made of grass and weeds falling apart into her hair.

The drumbeat picked up and the women began to dance. Simply walking around the pole as a ring, they wrapped the ribbons around the pole for a full turn. Then, every other woman stepped into the centre and ducked under the other women. Astrid remained as the first cycle of women pulled their ribbons around, and then she followed suit once they had finished their turn. Most of the villagers watched while they drank or danced to the music themselves, watching the ribbons slowly envelope the yellow pine in colours of light green, deep red, soft blue, and pale yellow around and around.

The music peaked and the women changed their steps accordingly. There were a few stumbles followed by bouts of forgiving laughter as the inner ring of women went over and under the other ribbons. Braids formed along the strands as they circled the pole again. And Hiccup watched Astrid as she had her skirts bundled in one of her hands higher than the rest, desperate to have her legs up to her knees free to move so she could jump over the low ribbons and duck under the high ones. Hiccup couldn't tear his eyes off her.

The music trailed off and the women thrust their ribbons up into the air once more, prompting another cheer from the crowd. Astrid found Hiccup and smiled at him, holding her red ribbon up in the air as high as she could. And, as if rehearsed, the men sauntered up and replaced half of the women to be with those they had bestowed their crowns upon. Astrid abandoned her ribbon to give her place to Snotlout, who grabbed the ribbon and whipped it like a whip, winking at Borgný. Hiccup heard the word 'disaster' behind him as Snotlout wiggled his hips, ready to dance his arse off.

Astrid stood next to Hiccup, ready to watch, pushing against a couple of crowding villagers to create a spot for her to stand. The sun had almost set as Hiccup leaned against Toothless. His heart was beating faster and faster. But Astrid readjusted her crown and shrugged a shoulder.

"It wasn't that bad," she lied, though she crossed her arms and cocked a hip into the air as if she had forgotten she was wearing her maypole dress. She peered over to Hiccup, who refused to look away as the dance started. The men lifted their ribbons into the air this time while the women pulled theirs taught. Hiccup swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

He suddenly felt warm fingers touch his hand, and he straightened his back as Astrid slid her fingers into his. She gave a supportive pulse with her palm, glancing over at him.

"You don't have to dance if you don't want to."

"I want to," Hiccup said.

The pair didn't look at each other lest they reveal they were holding hands slightly behind them. They stood there, their hearts pounding as fast as the plucking of the harp. The women ducked under the men's ribbons, then lifted it over their head, doubling back so their ribbons were locked together. They then moved onto the next man, blushing and laughing as the men held their ribbons. Snotlout winked at every one of them, making Hiccup and Astrid snort under their breaths.

The women continued this simple dance until a cage of ribbons traveled from the pole to the dancers. They all took one turn, then turned around and walked the other way, reversing the cage. Hiccup tensed as he counted the steps the men had to take. When the number passed twenty, he forced himself to look at something else. Slowly, the ribbons untangled back to what they were before, and they thrust their ribbons back into the air. Astrid gave Hiccup another squeeze.

"Our turn."

Hiccup took a deep breath. He puffed up his chest and left the support of his dragon. Astrid's hand moved from his hand to his arm. The pair didn't care that the villagers hushed into a whisper as the famed Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III – killer of the Red Death and newly-created cripple – took up a ribbon next to Astrid. He wrapped the raw silk around his hands, sneaking a glance to his father. Stoick had uncrossed his arms, glaring at his son, worried and wanting to avoid conflict. But Hiccup lifted his hands in the air first, showing the village the blue ribbon in his hands as Astrid pulled the scarlet ribbon taught, eliciting a new wave of jollity.

The music started and Hiccup's heart pounded against his ribs. All he had to do was stand still. So he pulled his ribbon back as Astrid wrapped her ribbon around his, first ducking under, and lifting over. Then she moved on to the next man while another woman danced around Hiccup. He stood tall and proud, mainly parked on his good leg, genuinely enjoying himself. He even hummed with the music, forgetting everything that had bombarded him. The Red Death collapsing on herself, the sound his body made when the tail crashed into him, the pain he felt as he lapsed in and out of darkness. All of that was forgotten in the flurry of music, dancing, laughter, and the sound Astrid's voice made as she skipped onward.

Regardless of what she said, she had grace. The way she twirled her axe in the ring and leapt over the barricades during their training betrayed her so-called brutality. She flourished with balanced beauty and knew how to move her body around obstacles. When she danced, she didn't merely skip around. The curl of her wrist as she held her skirt, the way she held her head up high on the top of her long neck, and the way she arched her back as she danced around the men was impossible to look away from.

But she stopped dancing, stopping next to him, winded and happy.

"We're going to turn," she told him, holding her ribbon. Hiccup faltered and slowly turned his back to her so he could lead her. He began to limp around the pole, gripping the silk ribbon as hard as he could, leaning against it. He hobbled, staggered, stumbled, cursed. Halfway around the pole, his leg began to cramp, the stump sending shots of pain up his side. It took his breath away, but he kept his eyes on the person skipping ahead of him. He almost lost his footing as his knee buckled, but Astrid grabbed a fistful of his vest and righted him, laughing at his efforts, proud and impressed at his determination.

He landed where he started, and immediately had to turn around. This time, Astrid wouldn't be able to catch him if he fell. But with his left leg on the outside, he didn't have to use it as much, so he tried to hop on his good leg as much as possible. If he could go back in time to tell past-Hiccup that he would be dancing around a maypole before he figured out how to walk properly, he'd have gotten a bewildered stare followed by negation after negation.

Almost finished the second turn, battling through the pain, Hiccup watched the back of Astrid's body. She had slowed her pace, ignoring the tune of the instruments so Hiccup didn't rush after her. He grounded himself through her, and pushed on. Almost there, he told himself. Almost there. And the crowd was cheering, some crying his name as he blundered his pace to keep moving forward. His father bellowed over the sound, praising the gods for healing his son.

Everyone was happy and exhausted as the turn finished. The cage remained, and Hiccup parked once more, letting the women unravel the ribbons until they all hung side-by-side. They thrust the ribbons into the air again, and the other half of the women replaced the men. Hiccup hobbled away, wincing and grimacing, but with a smile on his mouth. He barely made it to Toothless' saddle before it became too much to bear. He leaned against Toothless as the woman wrapped the remainder of the pole. He looked up to the platform where the musicians were playing – poised next to the long table – and caught his father's eye. Stoick beckoned him, so Hiccup mustered the last of his strength and hobbled over to the edge of it.

He didn't expect his father to reach down and scoop Hiccup from the ground. His legs dangling in the air for a moment, Hiccup tried to protest. Stoick hoisted his son into the air like a babe and set him down upon the platform. The villagers eating at the long table behind Hiccup laughed and toasted him as he sheepishly shifted his weight. He needed to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit on the edge of the platform. Everyone was looking up at him, cheering him on.

"Dad, uhh, what –"

"Behold, the pride of Berk!" Stoick boomed, clasping Hiccup around the shoulders. The musicians stopped their music and the dancers stopped dancing. Astrid caught her breath as she stretched onto her toes. What was everyone staring at, she wondered. She managed to see over the heads of the other villagers and saw Hiccup standing upon the platform, pale and small. His endearing nervousness made her mouth curl at one corner.

"You don't need to do this –" Hiccup began, holding his hands up as his terrified eyes became glued to the crowd. Every pair of eyes molested him, staring at his limp and his leg, his body, everything about him. And when standing next to his father, a beast of a man in both size and stature, he felt as tiny as a grain of sand.

His father ignored him, hurrying into a rushed speech. "Weeks ago, I almost lost my boy to the scourge of the nest's queen. She was taller than the mountain she crawled from, louder than any warhorn!"

Hiccup's throat went dry. He didn't need the reminder. He hung his head slightly, trying to hide his face under his bangs as everyone stared in awe.

"Upon his Night Fury, he soared into the air, both boy and beast, to take the Red Death down. He battled her in the storm clouds, igniting them with lightning bolts that peeled across the sky, as if Thor himself was battling the horror! And then, diving to the ground below, they shot a blast so powerful, the jaw of the Red Death almost came clean off!"

Hiccup didn't say anything about the exaggerated details. He put a hand on his hip, wincing as his stump throbbed.

"The entire earth shifted as the dragon hit the ground, sending an explosion heard around the world through my body. The beast crumbled and shattered."

Hiccup felt bile rise in his throat. The memory was too real, too recent, too raw. Why was his dad doing this? Flaunting him about in front of the villagers, in front of the alliance tribesmen, like a prized yak.

"The beast tried to take Hiccup to Valhalla, sending one final blow to his side. He fell into _Hel_ -fire, his body disappearing into the airborne lava, his Night Fury racing after him. And when the smoke cleared, I found them, lying at the edge of the carcass."

His leg burned, but he bit his tongue.

"When I found him, he was pale as a ghost. I thought the valkyries had taken him, but I brought his body to my ear and heard his drumbeat. We had won!"

Everyone cheered and howled to the night sky. Everyone save for Hiccup, and Astrid. She watched Hiccup with intense concern as she saw his pain-stricken face look up, his hand sliding down his leg, his throat bobbing a swallow. She dropped her ribbon, immediately pushing through the crowd.

Hiccup gasped under his breath as the pain tore up his nonexistent appendage, the sight of the villagers preventing him from sitting. He cowered as everyone screamed and whooped and clapped. Stoick looked down at him, glowing with pride. Hiccup tried to meet his gaze, tried to stand up tall and straight.

Instead, his knee collapsed.

Astrid watched in horror as Hiccup's knee buckled. Throwing his arms out, he tried to right himself. But his knee slammed into the platform. He tried to right his other leg, but it slipped off the platform's edge. His body teetered over it, and his body crashed upon the slats of wood. Food and ale went flying, Hiccup's cry caught in his throat. The villagers went from cheering to gasping in a matter of a single second. Hiccup felt his hip crack into the table first, and as he tried to stop his body from moving, he put a hand down. He rolled off the table and onto the ground at the feet of his unwelcome audience, covered in sticky mead and food.

He immediately tried to scramble back to his feet, but his stump connected with the hard earth instead. His prosthetic had fallen off, and when his stump hit the ground, his scream echoed across the archipelago. Toothless sliced through the crowd, smacking them away with his wings. He curled around Hiccup protectively as Hiccup remained on the ground, wet and trembling, tears cascading over his reddened face. He frantically tried to find his leg, to find the only thing that hid his vulnerability to the world.

And worst of all, he heard laughter.

Astrid beat threw the crowd, tripping over her skirts as she dropped to her knees, ignoring Toothless' hiss and Stoick's calls for help. She crawled to him and covered his body with hers, obscuring the vision of prying eyes. Hiccup shouldered her away, his breaths panicked and baited. He couldn't get one down. His chest hurt, he wanted to puke, and he wanted to tell everyone to look away. Stop looking at the cripple, stop staring at the boy who bested the Red Death. Stop it, stop it, _stop it_!

He found his leg under an overturned bowl and scooped it up in his hands. Astrid saw a flash of red within it, the wool inside the cup stained with the same blood that darkened the end of his trousers. He tried to put it back on as fast as he could, the echo of drunk laughter sending rage and humiliation up his spine, into his throat. Astrid snapped her head around as everyone loomed in.

" _Back off_!" she shrieked, throwing her hand across as if she held her axe.

Snotlout howled with laughter, too intoxicated to filter his senses. "Hiccup has _got_ to show me that dance move!" he snorted, holding his side as he laughed even harder. "Did you see that?! He just toppled right over –"

Astrid balked, her face riddled with disbelief and offense. Hiccup cowered even more as he heard Snotlout snort and laugh. A couple other villagers joined in while Hiccup curled into a ball, holding his prosthetic to his chest feebly. He reached up and wrapped his hand in Toothless' reins. The Night Fury used his jaw to push his rider up all the way before Astrid could stop him.

"Hiccup –"

"Stay away from me," he spat hoarsely.

Toothless sprinted out of the meadow, leaping over the heads of the villagers. Astrid watched them leave, her stunned silence lingering behind him. Her ears picked up the prickling sound of Snotlout's giggling. She turned on her heel, her nose wrinkled into a hateful jeer. His back was turned to her as he laughed. When the men around him saw Astrid storm up to him behind his back, they all spun around and fled. Before Snotlout could call after them, Astrid seized Snotlout's shirt and wrenched him around violently. She pulled her other hand back, locking it into a fist, and she ploughed it into Snotlout's face with a cry. Snotlout's head snapped back, his laughter immediately cut off as he fell backwards, unconscious and bloody-mouthed. Astrid, her shoulders tense with wrath, sneered at Snotlout's crumpled body.

She spat and winced, her hand throbbing. She had punched him right in the teeth. The impact had split her knuckle, and blood oozed forth over her pale skin. She opened her hand slowly and watched her fingers tremble. Then, she curled her hand into another fist and ran after Hiccup.

She found him stumbling up to his front door, grunting and wincing. With her skirt bundled in a fist, she ran up the stairs to his threshold, hand out.

"Hiccup, wait –"

But Hiccup shot daggers at her the moment he looked over his shoulder. She dropped her hand as she saw the glint of Hiccup's tears run over his face and over his hard cheeks, down his jaw and off his chin. She could see his bared teeth, his red eyes. She felt cold in the presence of his hot rage. Stunned, she forgot her words, and staggered back away from him. Toothless hissed at her gently, a warning. And she realized: Hiccup couldn't fly away. Of course, he would have, given the chance. But his leg –

"I can help –"

"No. You can't."

Astrid sucked in another breath. "If you would just let me look at your leg –"

Hiccup cursed and reached down, tearing the loosened prosthetic from his body. He shoved it into her arms, into her belly. She coughed as the metal pressed into her gut, forcing her backside out with the momentum of his shove and her flinch.

"Take it, then," he spat. "I don't want it."

He tore away from her, shoving himself with jagged, broken hops into the dark seclusion of his house. She listened to his tortured whimpers before she spoke, beckoned, begged him to wait for a moment. He slammed the door behind him, shutting himself away.

Astrid took a few shaken breaths, her hands clutched around the cold metal of his leg. Tears stung her eyes as she stubbornly attempted to stifle them. She tried to reach a hand out, but it was too heavy. She glanced down at herself, at the hem of her dirtied underdress, the frayed edges of her sapphire apron shirt. One of her brooches had come loose, sending her strand of bone-beads over one of her breasts. Her cingulum had untied and fallen off long ago.

Pressing her palm and curled fingers against her brow, she sucked back a hiccupped sob. She turned stiffly and removed her crown before she dropped her hand to her side, dragging both leg and crown home with her as if it weighed more than the island she walked upon.


	4. Stubborn

_This chapter is dedicated to my mother. A feisty beast of a woman trapped in a 5'0'' body._

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Stubborn**

Astrid set the leg down upon her bed so she could rub her exhausted face clear of stiffness. She groaned as she arched her back, cracking it in several places, before she stooped down again over the metal and wooden contraption. She grabbed her needle threaded with sinew and continued her work, silent and focussed.

It had been five days since the maypole dance, and five days since she had seen Hiccup after his infamous fall. It had also been five days since she asked Gobber for supplies. The next day, she stealthily stole a whole new set of leather to replace her botched first attempt. Today, she refused to stop until her alterations were complete, but through her quiet work, her mind wouldn't shut up.

Hiccup's words echoed through her head every time she thrust the curved bone needle through the leather. His anger, his mortification, all painted over his face so everyone could see it in the dark. The way he shoved the leg into her gut when she tried to comfort him made her tense, and made the needle finally break through the tough leather hide. She put the other end of the needle through her teeth and pulled it through, her fingertips too sore to do the task.

She knew he wasn't mad at her specifically. But… it didn't make her feel any better.

Sigourney peeked around the corner of the doorframe to Astrid's room. Her doe-brown eyes lingered upon Astrid's hands as she stretched them open and closed. She groaned and inhaled sharply as her bandaged knuckle popped and cramped. But she commenced her tailoring mission, refusing to be distracted.

"My babe," Sigourney murmured, careful not to make her daughter reflexively jump (a trait she had inherited from her father). Astrid looked up for a brief moment before she re-adhered her sight to the leather pinched in her fingers.

Her mother sighed quietly and walked in, crossing the room until she could sit upon the bed. She did so, planting herself in front of Astrid, who tried to ignore her. Sigourney watched her work and admired her determination as the two pieces of leather slowly – but surely – embraced through the sloppy stitches.

"I'm almost finished," Astrid muttered. She tied off her sinew and bit it clean before she showed it to Sigourney for inspection. Sigourney took it from Astrid and with her one arm, she turned it in the light. The metal leg, by Astrid, had been altered to include a leather compression piece, designed to apply adequate pressure around his stump and to make it stronger so he could walk on it. It was inspired by the compression piece her mother had to wear after her own amputation.

"It's coming together," Sigourney said, impressed. She handed it back to Astrid. "Just make sure the belts won't tear from the leather when you pull on them."

"I could sew a second set of stitches around all three belts," Astrid replied. Her mother almost stopped her, ready to say she could try something a little easier, but Astrid had already begun fortifying the belted straps without another word, or even a complaint.

She wanted Hiccup to feel better. She _needed_ Hiccup to feel better. She couldn't get his face out of her head – the face of someone who felt useless and shameful. Her desperation, fuelled by her experience with her mother and the struggles she faced, was poured into the handiwork. She was never one for creation – more for destruction – but she refused to give up. Not when she could help. It just… took her longer than most. And an exceeding amount of effort.

The only thing that could, and did, stop her was her mother. As she tried to push the needle through the second piece of leather, her mother rested her hand over her daughter's. She pulled her hands away from her work and cradled them, palms up. She _tsk_ ed _._ Astrid didn't care that her fingertips were hot and pink from days of stitching, unstitching. Her mother trailed a thumb over Astrid's raw index finger as Astrid trailed her tongue over her swollen gum, caused by biting the sinew and accidentally catching it between her teeth.

Sigourney knew her daughter better than anyone, and she knew without speaking that Astrid would keep her path true and strong until she either completed her task or split her fingers open. So she left the bed and left the room, retrieving the _hvönn_ tea. She ladled some into a small wooden bowl over a clean rag. Yellowed roots fell into the brew before she placed the spoon down and returned to Astrid, who had stubbornly recommenced her work. Sigourney sat once more and put the bowl upon her lap. She grabbed the boiled rag with her hand as if the heat didn't faze her, and squeezed it out the best she could.

"Hand, now."

Astrid groaned and dropped the leg onto her lap. She gave her hands to her mother. She draped the rag over one of them and squeezed it gently.

"You didn't have to use your _hvönn_ for me," Astrid said tiredly.

Sigourney chuckled and raised her eyebrows as she massaged Astrid's hand with her single hand. "I don't grow it just for me."

Whenever her mother's arm irritated her, from the day she lost it to today, _hvönn_ would always calm her. Used to speed the recovery of its user, it became a staple medicine to the Isle of Berk. Unfortunately, after the Red Death, the numbered of injured ran the resources dry. But since Sigourney used it so often, she had the foresight to grow it upon her casement. It should have made Astrid happy, but it only made her wish the healers would listen to her mother more often. They merely wrote her off, even though she had adapted to her new life the best she could.

Astrid felt her raw fingers tingle and numb at the tips. A small sigh of relief passed her lips.

"So," Sigourney supposed, "you haven't seen Hiccup?"

Astrid shook her head, making the wisps of loose blonde hair around her face sway gently. "No. Not since Ostara."

"And you've tried?"

"Everyday since," she admitted. She pursed her lips towards the leg in her lap, her crossed legs creating a nest around it. "But… nothing. Not even the healers can get into the house."

Sigourney rewetted the rag and wrung it out before she placed it over Astrid's other hand. "He needs the support of his family, and his friends."

"All he has is Stoick."

Sigourney snorted and shook her head, her jaw tense and her countenance peeved.

"If I could give him a piece of my mind," she muttered, the tip of her tongue flicking off her teeth, forcing her consonants into sharp staccatos.

"Mum –"

"Forcing him onto the stage in front of the village –" Sigourney leaned back and sucked in a breath to calm herself. "Sorry."

Astrid warily observed her mother. She didn't get angry too often, but when she did… well, people could tell she was Astrid's mother, to put it bluntly.

The pair of them quieted as Sigourney let Astrid's skin revive under the rag. She pulled it forth and dropped it back into the bowl. She looked up as Astrid grabbed the leg once more, ready to continue.

"Perhaps a little persuasion would help," Sigourney pondered, looking up to the ceiling in thought. Astrid scoffed and shook her head again.

"Yeah, unless I can use my fists or my axe… persuasion is not one of my fortes."

"Astrid Sigourney Hofferson," Sigourney bluntly exclaimed, forcing her daughter's head to snap up. "Since when, in all your life, have you _ever_ backed down from a challenge?"

And she ran from the room, muttering under her breath excitedly as Astrid watched, her lips parted and eyebrows furrowed. She could only imagine what sort of scheme her mother was planning.

* * *

The next day, Astrid knocked on the Haddock house door, her sore hands stuffed into her armpits from the chill of morning. She waited as patiently as she could, though she shifted from side to side. The floorboards of the house's threshold creaked under her boots caked with mud. She nervously looked at the back of her bandaged hand, still sore from hitting Snotlout. She dropped it as soon as she heard heavy footsteps approach on the other side of the door.

The door unlatched and opened, revealing Stoick's huge frame. He looked over Astrid's head before he looked down, expecting someone taller. He blinked and sighed, relaxing his shoulders.

"Astrid. What can I do for you?" he asked with the etiquette of his title.

Astrid bit her lip. "…Hiccup?"

Stoick shook his head, clicking his tongue. "As I have said yesterday – and the day before that – he does not want visitors."

Astrid's face fell, her hands still wringing each other. She exhaled heavily and pursed her lips. She hated feeling helpless. She should have broken into his home and chased after him the night of the maypole dance. She knew he couldn't fly away to the privacy of the cove, and she knew he had shut himself away. But she also knew she could help.

Stoick rested a massive hand on her small shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He lowered his voice comfortingly.

"I've tried," he said. "But Hiccup won't. He hasn't even flown that Night Fury of his since Ostara. I've had to turn away the healers. He won't have any of it."

Astrid crossed her arms and looked up at her chief. "My mother can help. I can help. I'm his friend."

"Aye, and a good one at that." Stoick released her shoulder and motioned to her knuckle. "Heard about what you did to my nephew."

Astrid blanched. She reflexively covered her hand with the other, hiding the evidence. Was she in trouble?

"I would have expected nothing less," Stoick said simply.

Astrid softened and she licked her lips. "Stoick – chief – if there's anything you need…"

"I know where you find you," Stoick finished. He gestured to the pathway. "Trust me, your offer hasn't left my mind since you first mentioned it. But for now, my hands are tied. And until I can sort this out with the other clans, they remain as such."

Stoick turned and tried to shut the door between them. But Astrid quickly wedged her foot between the wood of the doorframe and the door, her hand pushing back against it.

"Wait," she said quickly, holding up her other hand as Stoick's face hardened out of annoyance. She craned her neck to look up at him, and she cowered slightly at the sight of his eyes glinting from the sunrise. She scrambled for words. When her mother said 'persuade Stoick the Vast', she should have believed the task was futile. But here she was, and she couldn't really go back.

She snatched the small pouch at her belt and thrust it into Stoick's hand. He blinked and grunted, looking at his palm, his eyes glaring at the rough pouch.

"What is this?" he asked.

" _Hvönn_ ," Astrid replied promptly. "My mother grows it for herself. It's a medicinal herb that will help. Boil the roots for tea and put it on his leg as much as you can to draw out infection and to numb it. He can also drink it as a tea to put him to sleep, and to help his healing."

She relayed the words so fast that Stoick barely heard them. But he glanced down at the pouch in his hand and gave it a long, hard look. He looked back to her, his stoic gratefulness seeping past his stiff jaw in a thin trickle.

"You said… your mother grows this?" he asked quietly.

"And I have more," Astrid continued. "She and I can help. And not just with the leg, but…"

He knew she was talking of the night terrors. She didn't need to say it. It was common knowledge that Sigourney suffered one night here and one night there. No one talked about it, but they knew.

Suspended in impatient wait, she refused to look away from Stoick in case her offer fell through for the umpteenth time.

But to Astrid's surprise, Stoick left his house and shut the door behind him so Hiccup couldn't hear him.

"Let's say you can help my son," Stoick pondered.

Astrid raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms again.

"When he fell, I may have said a few things to the other clan members," Stoick sighed gruffly. "And I may or may not have insulted one of the clan leaders."

 _Uh oh_ , Astrid thought immediately.

"Gothi claims through her magic that if I don't sail across to the east and make amends, then…"

Stoick rolled his eyes, as if the entire debacle was ridiculously asinine.

"But I can't leave Hiccup alone to sail over."

"Oh, but it was different at the maypole dance?" Sigourney yelled.

Astrid jumped and flinched as her mother marched up to the threshold, her face red as a lobster, her nostrils flared, and her hand clenched into a fist. Stoick stepped back as the Hofferson matriarch raised her hand and smacked his arm.

"Mama!" Astrid gasped as Sigourney delivered blow after feathery blow to Stoick's forearm.

"You – stupid – stupid – _fool_!" She punctuated every one of her slaps with her words until Astrid seized her wrist and shoved it down. Stoick, who had reflexively leaned away to protect his face, frowned at her, bewildered and abashed.

Astrid cowered and hissed to her mother. "He's the _chief_!"

"He can be Odin, I don't care," Sigourney retorted haughtily, her curls splaying from its loosened bun, gold slicing the black of her half-cloak. "Stoick the Vast against a one-armed healer with back problems? I'm sure he'll live."

"What in Thor's name –"

"You leave the gods out of this," Sigourney scolded, wrenching her hand from Astrid's grip. She thrust a finger under Stoick's nose, her body stretching onto her toes to get as close to her face as her petite body would allow. "I will have words!"

"Is that all?" Stoick asked exasperatedly, opening his arms in sheer disbelief.

Sigourney grunted and smacked his chest. Astrid covered her face with her hands, groaning. This – _this_ – was where she got it. Not her dragon-slaying father with the scar across his face and the burn marks on his scalp, but this. Her feisty tiny mother. A Red Death trapped in a mouse of a woman.

"What made you think that was a good idea?!" she yelled. "Sending your boy onto the stage, parading him about like a thrall bought for our entertainment?!"

"That's an exaggeration –" Stoick argued.

"Oh, if Valka were here, she'd have your head. Did you lose your senses like he lost his leg?!"

Stoick looked away and sighed heavily as Sigourney threw her loose hair over her shoulder in a flourish.

"That boy needed to stay in bed and rest," Sigourney said, serious and stern. "It's not easy losing a limb, _especially_ when _everyone_ is looking at him."

"You're right," Stoick sighed.

"I'm not challenging your parenting," Sigourney followed up with. "But out of the bad decisions you've made, doing that was one of them. Why haven't the healers been in to see him?"

Astrid felt her heart flitter against her ribcage and crossed arms as Stoick weighed the pouch in his hands. The tension could break stone. She peeked behind her protective bangs as her mother latched her eyes onto Stoick's. Sigourney was never going to back down, and she knew Stoick knew that.

"I have _tried_ bringing healers into my house. Hailaga is out of the question, Borgný is busy with marriage negotiations, Gothi is tending to a pair of sick babes –"

"You'd think they'd make time for the son of the chief," Sigourney spat.

"It's not that they didn't, it's Hiccup," Stoick groaned. The bags under his eyes became more prominent, like two baggy sacks of blue and purple hanging under his lower eyelashes. "He doesn't want help. I've tried forcing it, but everything they've tried doesn't help, and no one but Hailaga is stubborn enough to talk some sense into him."

"If you actually tried to force it, I wouldn't be here," Sigourney laughed sardonically. "I don't care if Hailaga is your last resort, she should be in there forcing medicine down his throat, why are you catering to Hiccup now when you never did before? Why are you suddenly allowing him to refuse care?"

Astrid gasped so hard she made an audible squeak. She wasn't sure if Hailaga was on the top of the _People to Throw off Berk_ list anymore. The way she snapped her question around like a Hideous Zippleback's head made the air stand still and cold. No one dared to breathe as Astrid awkwardly leaned over to her mother.

"I think… he was going to let us help…" she whispered, darting a glance at Stoick, who looked at the pouch in his hands sadly.

Sigourney didn't relax, but she pulled her half-cloak around her other arm to hide the emerging stump beneath it. Stoick looked up at her apologetically, his eyes half lidded, unimpressed and irritated, as Sigourney placed her hand on her hip.

"Oh, I already knew that," Sigourney muttered. "But I made promises to Valka, and Stoick knows full-well of them. Which is probably why he never came to me for help."

Stoick sighed, in no position to argue with her as his mistakes rested between them, exposed. He looked down at Astrid and looked at her up and down before he rolled his eyes and stepped around them, pressing the pouch into Astrid arms.

"I'll see you in a few weeks. I'm heading east."

And Sigourney marched into the Haddock house before Astrid could stop her, and before she could see the chief rub his forearm with a grumble in his throat.

* * *

Hiccup awoke in his bed, as he had for eternity. He opened his eyes to the stoney wall directly in front of his face, and winced as his leg burned and cramped. It used to hurt him randomly, but now, it was constant. Angrily hot, fiery red, swollen.

Why did he have to wake up? He asked himself this question with every ragged breath, and he pulled his blankets over himself as a shiver rolled through his sweaty body. His hair clung to his forehead, his shirt clung to his back, and nausea clung to his throat.

"If I can find his old pedal, I can take him out for a flight," he heard someone whisper. Was it another dream? A vision? A trick?

"We can worry about that later," another voice replied gently. "But for now, we need to break his fever."

Hiccup strained his back to roll over, to see who was speaking, and why the voices didn't belong to his father.

"He's waking up," the first voice said, closer. As if disconnected from his body, he felt hands touch him, pull his blanket down, a hand against his forehead.

"Hiccup?"

His eyes focussed upon the familiar face of Astrid. At first, he saw her in her flower crown, her fair face beamed down at him as if she was illuminated by the summer skin, her cheeks pink and healthy, her lips moving delicately over her teeth. When he blinked, the apparition changed to the present. Her flower crown faded, and sunlight transformed into firelight. He groaned, cold, and tried to grab his blanket feebly. But it was gone.

He reached down even further, reached for his knee, and felt a rag pressed against it, hot and painful. He tried to grab it, but Astrid firmly pushed him back into the bed.

Gasping in jagged, hoarse breaths, Hiccup frantically darted his eyes around the room until they fell upon Sigourney, who brought a bowl to his lips. He tasted the bitter liquid and tried to spit it out, but resorted to choking it down. He wanted to fight back. He shoved the bowl away, gasping in a breath.

"Get off me!" he wheezed. He threw his fist out, and it connected with something.

But Astrid loomed over his face, her hands pinning his wrists at his sides as he struggled against her.

"Stop moving," she demanded. The bowl met his lips again. He clamped his lips down, too delirious to understand Astrid was trying to help. She grabbed his nose and pinched it shut. Forced to breathe through his mouth, he gasped and the _hvönn_ tea cascaded to the back of his open throat. He coughed and sputtered as the liquid forced its way into his body, warming his fiery insides like liquid embers. The bowl left his lips and he choked and coughed. A rag wiped his face and neck dry.

"Stop," he whimpered. "Go."

"Sorry, Hiccup. That's not an option."

He felt the tea work its way into his blood. How could it have worked that fast? Or had he fallen asleep or faint just now? He tried to reason as it dragged his body down.

Pain brought him back from his sleep. Something wrenched against stump, constricting against it and strangling it. He groggily cried out, throwing his hands into nothing.

"I'm sorry," a voice repeated over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Another pull, another constriction, sent Hiccup into madness. He screamed and howled, his back arching off the bed, as his stump contracted and pushed against the bandages.

"More pressure," the other voice said.

"N-no –"

Another yank strangled the cries locked in his throat before tendrils of darkness enveloped him and dragged him down again.

 _The Red Death met him in the blackness, her beady eyes each glaring at him, watching his every move. Hiccup tried to run, but he had no leg. He fell onto his chest as his weight dropped suddenly. He flipped over and scurried back on his backside._

 _"No, NO!" he cried. The Red Death opened her mouth, filling her mouth with noxious gas, her jaw dislocating to open it to its full capacity. Hiccup rolled over, frantically trying to escape, his breaths too fast, his body pouring sweat, bile rising up in his throat. He looked up as the Red Death's teeth encased him, a cell of darkness slamming all around him, deafening him, puncturing him, protruding from either side of his body._

 _He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak. Trapped in the belly of a dragon, bloody foam seeping through his clenched jaw as he tried to move, broken and shattered all over again. He closed his eyes and trembled, begging himself to wake from this nightmare._

 _"I'm here," a gentle voice whispered to him._

 _He peeled his eyes open. He rolled over timidly, the blood gone as if never there to begin with. The belly of the beast had transformed into a sky, the clouds surrounding him gently._

 _"Do you know where you are?"_

 _The voice echoed off the clouds. Hiccup turned on his feet, the pain almost entirely erased, his breaths calmed and his sweat dried upon his skin. He swallowed._

 _"Do you know where you are?" it repeated._

 _"T-the clouds," he replied._

 _"What do you see?"_

 _Hiccup didn't see anything but clouds, his heart slowing from his panic, only slightly. His cramped chest relaxed as a wall appeared in front of him. The familiar stonework forced his hand towards it. He pressed his palm against it. It was cold. It was solid._

 _"A wall," he breathed. He looked up and watched the sky fade from empty blue to solid wall. A ceiling. Wooden slats bathed in warm light. "My house."_

 _"What do you feel?" the voice asked._

Hiccup felt his body grow heavy as it sank down, his back pressing itself onto an uneven surface. His head lolled to the side as his cheek pressed into a boney shoulder. A warm cheek rested upon his forehead, and he heard the distinct _thrum_ of a heartbeat against his ear. And across his thighs and hips, the handle of an axe tied with blue and red cords weighed him into his bedframe, tethering him back to reality. How could he fall if he knew he was on the ground?

He sucked in another breath as an arm squeezed around his shoulders. In front of him, Sigourney sat in a chair, her head in her hand, as she snoozed softly. Next to her was a clutch of supplies – vials completely empty, a pile of soiled bandages.

He was about to look up at the person holding him, forgetting he had seen Astrid's face just moments ago, not realising days had passed since. He felt his eyelids grow tired, and he slept.

* * *

Astrid poured another batch of _hvönn_ tea over a blanched rag as she stifled another yawn, her tired arms struggling with the weight of the cast iron pot. When she finished pouring, she placed the pot back over the fire and carried the bowl to Hiccup's bed. She set the bowl down on his bedside table, sitting herself in a chair, and dug her palms into her eyes, attempting to scrub away her exhaustion. She had been awake for days, only getting an hour of sleep here or there.

It had been a long week since Stoick sailed from the port, and since Sigourney and Astrid took over his care. Days of screaming, crying, and night terrors kept her awake, and kept her busy.

She regretted sending her mother away at that moment. But her mother needed to sleep in her own bed. She needed her health. Astrid, however, was young, and young people could apparently take the beating a lot better. She scoffed. It was all yakcrap in the grand scheme of things, she thought as she shoved the last of her breakfast bread into her dry mouth.

She chewed it lazily as she pulled Hiccup's blankets away from his leg. His fever broke a couple days ago, and the tea had drawn out the infection. The swelling had gone down, and Hiccup didn't have a night terror the night before. Things were looking up for him. Finally.

Just as her mother had taught her and shown her, Astrid untied the taught bandages constricting around his stump and pulled them free. The pink stump, still raw from the damage caused by Hiccup pushing his abilities too hard and too fast, remained pink and tender. But the gashes had finally closed, and the pockets of ooze were gone. For now, the _hvönn_ brew helped take his healing to that final step, to help avoid any chance of the infection returning.

She wrapped the hot rag around his stump and rested her hands overtop of it, pulsing little amounts of pressure around the muscles. He shifted slightly, a gentle moan escaping his parted lips. She dipped the rag back into the hot water and repeated it as many times as she could before the water lost its heat. Then, she rewrapped his leg as tight as she could, applying the right amount of strength. She tied it off and sat back.

Her eyes drifted up to Hiccup's face. He didn't flinch this time. He didn't bolt awake or try to hit her, or scream or cry. She went to the hearth and refilled her bowl with clean and hot _hvönn_ tea, returning to her chair. She absentmindedly brought the rag up to her shoulder and pulled the side of her shirt down to expose it. A blue bruise had formed over it, and she pressed the rag to it. She smirked. She had never expected Hiccup's fist to be so strong, but then again, he had a knack for surprising her.

Hiccup opened his eyes and found Astrid sitting in the chair, her back arched slightly as she stretched her spine. She had the rag in her hand, the shoulder of her shirt loose around her upper arm. She dragged the rag up to her stiff neck and sighed deeply, thankful for the warm relief. Her hair had loosened from its braid and her ragged appearance made his heart jump. How could he interrupt her when she looked so peaceful? His eyes lingered on her as she brought the rag up to her face, wiping it down.

She then unceremoniously tossed the rag into the bowl and sat back, her eyes running up his body before –

"Hiccup!" she gasped, jumping upright in her chair. She quickly took the bowl from her lap and put it on the bedside table, reaching for Hiccup's hand as she pulled her shirt over her shoulder without another thought.

"Astrid?" he asked weakly. "What – what happened? What are you doing here?"

"Your leg got infected," she replied. "Stoick asked my mum and I to help. Well, sort of."

Hiccup struggled to sit up, his arms weak and his back stiff. Astrid helped him to his backside, propping a bundle of blankets behind him. He pulled his blanket aside and saw his freshly bandaged leg, his forehead wrinkled.

"I thought the healers didn't have anything that could help," Hiccup murmured as he rested a hand on his thigh.

"Thankfully, when you're ostracised from the healers," Astrid muttered sourly, "you get overlooked when you have the right medicine. My mum harvested what we had from the garden and your dad is east."

Hiccup looked up. "Why?"

"He told the eastern clan leader to leave after you fell?"

"In that many words?"

Astrid snickered. "No, more like: 'suck the eggs of Eostre and all things holy, get the Frigg away from my son and if I ever see your face again, I'll use it to plough the fields for sowing.' Or something along those lines."

Hiccup snorted weakly and coughed, clearing his dry throat. Astrid handed him a cup of water to wet his tongue, which he did. He pulled it from his lips gently, another thought tugging at his mind.

"Did I have any nightmares while I was out?" he asked, embarrassed.

But Astrid shrugged a shoulder and made it to her feet, heading to Toothless as he licked his paws clean. "You did," she replied softly. "But it takes a lot more than that to scare me away."

"I heard you," he noted, staring into his mug.

"I ask questions to my mother when she has her night terrors," Astrid admitted. "I remind her that she's not there anymore."

Hiccup was quiet for a moment before Astrid whirled around, hands on her hips and her face moulded into a frown. Hiccup blinked at her.

"You punched me!" she yelled.

Hiccup balked and sank into his bed. "What?"

"You hit me, right here!" she specified, jabbing a finger at her own shoulder. "All I did was help you and you – _you_ – hit me! And that was _after_ you left me at the maypole dance. After I beat the 'snot' out of 'Snotlout' and broke my hand and everything."

She broke into a grin and crossed her arms, cocking her hip into the air. Hiccup was absolutely taken aback. "You broke your hand? Snotlout? What? I'm sorry?"

"So how are you going to make it up to me?" she dared ask, egging him on.

Hiccup couldn't keep up. "I don't know, I didn't –"

Astrid put up a hand and reached down. "Oh, I forgot. I already know what I want you to do."

And she pulled his altered leg into his sight and grinned.


	5. Rebirth

**Chapter Five: Rebirth**

"You okay?" Astrid asked.

"J-just stay close," Hiccup shakily replied.

Hiccup had his arms fanned out on either side of his body, his weight poised on his good leg and his altered prosthetic hovering over the wood of his house. Astrid had her hands out to him, ready to catch him if he fell again. Another couple of days passed before Astrid strapped Hiccup's leg back to his body, encouraging him every couple of seconds.

Pale and nervous, he looked up to Astrid before he set his foot against the ground gently. He pushed his weight into it and winced.

"It feels weird," he said, glancing at the leather contraption Astrid added to constrict his leg to compress the swelling and stiffen the support.

Astrid blew a stray lock of hair out of face with her mouth, refusing to move her hands.

"You'll get used to it," she promised. "Just take a step."

Hiccup clenched his jaw and slowly sank his weight into his prosthetic. It hurt, gods it hurt, but it wasn't a sharp, stinging pain that sent him crumpling to the ground. It was a cramp, a pain he believed would go away. But he couldn't help but hesitate.

"This isn't the maypole dance," Astrid said. "It's just three steps."

She made it sound so easy. She made _everything_ sound so easy. And he didn't want her to see him fall.

He put his weight on his leg and staggered forward, desperate to return to his good leg. And Astrid gleamed and smiled and gestured him to continue with her fingers. He took a deep breath, his arms still out, and stepped again. He grunted and scowled as his stump settled into the cup, the leather supporting his muscles so they wouldn't swell and bulge. He threw himself forward again, gingerly stepping onto his foot.

But he threw himself too hard, and fell forward. He gasped, But Astrid was there in an instant, scooping her arms under his armpits and following him to the ground. They both sank to their knees – gently, thanks to Astrid's quick reflexes – and Hiccup covered his face with a hand.

Astrid lifted her hand up to his shoulder, giving him a shake and a smile. "You did two steps that time!" she cried.

"Hurray," he groaned sardonically. "Two whole steps."

Astrid frowned and she lifted his chin. Her encouragement disappeared as she forced him to look at her.

"Are you feeling sorry for yourself?" she asked coldly. Hiccup pulled his face away from her hand and hung his head, sucking in a breath. "Hiccup, please. You can do this."

"And what if I can't?" he asked. He looked up at her. But she didn't give his pouting any attention. She leaned back and crossed her arms, unimpressed.

"I didn't spend two weeks living in your house off bread and _hvönn_ roots with bloody fingertips for you to not walk."

Hiccup didn't say anything in return. He sighed angrily.

"I'm pathetic," he spat.

"You're the son of a chief," Astrid argued, as if that alone negated his reason.

"I'm the son of a chief that can't walk," he rasped.

Astrid stared at the top of his bowed head, wanting to slap some sense into him – or something else equally as effective – but she lingered on his words. The way he said it… the memory of him struggling to keep up, a time where people didn't respect him and would rather him get culled so Snotlout could take his place as heir. And she didn't like seeing him this way, not only for herself, but for him.

"Hiccup," she whispered. "Look at me."

He hesitated before he peered up, tears stinging his eyes. Astrid cupped the side of his face, throwing any caution of boundaries and stipulations around Hiccup's title. She squeezed his jaw.

"Look, I know what happened at Ostara is bothering you."

"Thanks for the understatement, it's like you've forgotten my dad is trying to stop a war because of it."

"But you've forgotten everything about Ostara, and what it means."

Hiccup sniffled and an angry tear fell down his face. He made a move to hide it from her, but she caught it with the back of her index finger. He tried to push her away, but she shook her head and held him firm.

"You don't have to be embarrassed in front of me," she said comfortingly. "I know you feel weak and useless, but you know what? It doesn't make you any less of a person. You can still be strong, even when you're upset."

Hiccup shrugged slightly, not quiet believing her, or in himself. The life of a chief was full of educational lessons on etiquette. How to keep himself from showing emotion in front of his people, even when his father disowned him and took his dragon, no tears rushed over his face. He had learned how to be stoic, though he was doing a bad job of it, now.

"Ostara is the time of rebirth," she reminded him. "The snow leaves the land and we can sow our fields. We forget the famine of winter buy eating all the food we can, and we move onto the summer as if it's the last we'll ever see."

He pursed his lips as Astrid gave him a stiff grin.

"You ended winter with the Red Death. You brought her down and freed the dragons. You changed _everything_ about Berk. Everything except yourself."

Hiccup wrinkled his brow as Astrid pulled him to his feet. She grabbed his arms and hooked them around her shoulders. She wrapped her own arms around his waist and lifted him slightly onto his toes. Before he understood what she was trying to accomplish, she continued.

"You have always felt that you don't belong. That you're weak and you don't deserve to be heir to Berk."

"You have a knack of summing things up," he told her, looking to the side.

She smirked and released some of his weight to his feet ever so slightly.

"But you forget that when you did those things on Dragon Island, you gained the respect of _everyone_. Well, everyone except Snotlout, but I already told you about how I dealt with that. And while everyone had moved into this new age of dragons and Vikings, a summer of prosperity… you've remained in the cold of winter. You understand?"

Hiccup processed her words, clearing his throat as Astrid swayed him back and forth.

"You are the only one left. And yes, you lost a leg. Yes, it sucks. But you are not the first to lose a limb, not by a long shot. Sigourney, Gobber, and Mulch," she listed immediately. "And dozens more. They all went through the same thing, and they all learned how to do things better than before. My mum was able to help you. Gobber found solace in the forge, Mulch has Bucket to worry about."

"And what about me?"

"You think losing your leg undoes anything you did before that? You got me on a dragon, you destroyed the nest. You stood up to your dad. You danced with me. You have Toothless. The two of you need each other," she mused. She turned their bodies, still swaying. "That, and can you imagine all the cool things you'd be able to do with your leg?"

Hiccup smiled slightly, reluctantly, as Astrid gave him a funny look, trying to replenish some humour back into his demeanour. He didn't want to admit it, but she _did_ make him feel better. She invited him to Ostara, defended him there, and after he refused anyone's help, she stubbornly refused to leave his side, all while altering his leg for him so he wouldn't be in as much pain when he used it.

He was about to say something before he stopped himself, his eyes lingering within hers as the two of them swayed side to side. And both of them paled slightly as their gazes remained on the other. He felt heat rise in his cheeks and he watched the gentle flush of pink enter her cheeks. He pulled a hand back and brushed her bangs out of her face, his heart picking up in pace.

Time to be brave, he decided. No more cowering in the shadows. No more being a slave to the Red Death. Time to jump.

He swallowed and took in another deep breath as Astrid's lips parted gently, her eyes trailing between his as he placed his hand behind her ear. "I'm going to kiss you…" he whispered, almost as a thought.

"Is that a threat?" she asked coyly, half-believing he wouldn't, snorting a laugh to the side.

Hiccup closed the distance between them, resting his inexperienced lips upon hers, stopping time in his tracks. His eyes fluttered shut, as Astrid's remained wide open for a brief moment, before she let them fall. Their noses brushed against each other's delicately before Astrid tilted her head slightly, melting into the kiss as Hiccup pulled his lips away. The gentle sound of their lips separating just long enough for them to breathe the air between them made the hair on their skin rise to meet the warm air. She gasped a quiet gasp, fringed with the sound of her wavering voice.

He returned to her mouth, his hand pulling against the back of her head a little firmer, but gentle as if she were a baby bird vulnerable in the palm of his hand. And her arms tightened around his waist as she timidly pulled his frame against hers. He felt her in his hands, in his arms, her nervous shiver. For the first time, they had found something they were equally unfamiliar with. They were still learning, too hesitant, too scared of crushing the other person but wanting nothing more than to open their mouths a little wider, let their tongues trace the lower lip of the other.

Hiccup pulled away, taking in a breath. He opened his eyes slowly as they pressed their foreheads together. He watched Astrid's blonde eyelashes pull her eyelids open. He smelled her skin – the soft essence of _hvönn_ tea paired with the conjured smell of the flowers of her flower crown – and her lips were pink and parted. She looked across at him, into his eyes, before she pulled her head back. The corners of her mouth twitched and she smiled, words failing her.

Hiccup looked up and over her head, and became confused. He looked around the room, noticing that somehow, they had managed to cross it. And when he returned his eyes to Astrid's, she had a sly, mischievous smirk over her mouth.

"'Look at me, my name is Hiccup,'" she mocked, jerking her shoulders up and down, letting go of his waist to flap her hand about unnecessarily. "'I said I couldn't walk and then I did, look at me go.'"

She snickered and laughed as Hiccup shook his head slowly.

"I did that?" he asked. Then he stepped back, putting his weight on his leg. He felt the soreness of it, the stiffness of it, but…

Astrid had made him dance across the room. She had distracted him from the pain long enough for him to sway to the other side of the room. _He was across the room._

His jaw dropped as he looked up at her again. "I-I-I did that?!"

"You didn't even notice!" she replied, still laughing.

Hiccup placed his weight down again, stepping up to her once more, but leading with his left leg. Yes, it hurt. And no, he couldn't continue using his leg like that for long periods of time. But all that mattered, in that single moment before he kissed her again, was that he had taken those steps, and she had been there to help him do it, and that she had shown him to be strong once more.

* * *

 ** _Five Years Later_**

The dragon riders landed their dragons by the Hangar and removed their saddles and bridles. The journey from the Edge had gone without a complication, and they mingled with the new arrivals of the other clan members. Astrid pulled her hood back, sucking in a deep breath as Sigourney ran up to her. Astrid laughed and scooped Sigourney into her arms, hoisting her mother's frail frame into the air. Her mother gasped and announced her protest, but Astrid set her down and kissed her mother's face.

"You've been gone all month," her mother scolded.

"Storms," Astrid replied simply with a shrug. "Besides, we were busy with a few things and we couldn't come back until they were done."

"Aye," her mother said tersely. "I knew as much when Stoick returned with a Rumblehorn and Gobber, who… well, we don't really know what happened there."

Astrid laughed. "Don't worry. I'll be staying here until the dragon races next week. I can't wait for you to see the war paint I'm going to do! Blue and yellow, I've been saving it for this for months!"

Sigourney smiled and pulled her forward with her hand. "My girl, how I have missed you so over the past weeks."

"How have you been doing?" Astrid asked, wondering about the nights.

"Fine," Sigourney replied simply, genuinely.

"You know, if you want me to stay –"

"The last thing I want is for you to remain here while your friends go on the adventures you were born to lead," Sigourney tittered. Astrid sighed and smiled.

"And Hiccup?"

 _The last time I saw him, he was pulling his clothes onto his naked body, winking at me as he snuck out my window while I begged him to get back into my bed._

Astrid's face flushed pink.

"What about him?" she asked, kicking herself for accidentally letting her voice hike up in pitch.

"I'm _sure_ you're wondering where he is, considering he arrived yesterday," her mother quipped, keeping her eyes ahead, a stifled smile drawing her lips forward. "And you'll reply you have no interest in his whereabouts, and I'll say you're lying, and you'll say –"

"Oh my gods, mama."

"Precisely."

Astrid rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Fine, I'll bite. But only because you seem so adamant on it. Where is he?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out. But for now, come with me. I know you're excited for the dragon racing next week, but I have a brand new maypole dress I had made for you for tonight's Ostara celebrations. Come!"

Astrid groaned and followed her mother to her house, her eyes lingering on the forge before trailing up to the sky.

When Astrid made it to her house, Borgný waddled out of the house, a wide smile over her fair face. Astrid smiled widely and immediately placed her hands on Borgný's protruding belly.

"You're so big!"

"Haven't popped yet," Borgný laughed. "When you get pregnant, pray to Eostre to have your baby on time."

"Hah-hah, babies, right," Astrid sighed, absolutely convinced that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Do you have it?" Sigourney asked. Borgný smiled, showing her teeth, and lifted a strip of fabric into the air. Astrid glared.

"What is that for?" she asked. Borgný placed it over Astrid's eyes, the two women laughing as Astrid groaned and scoffed.

She couldn't see them as they pulled off her clothes in the confinements of her childhood home, snickering like kids as they pulled her overdress onto her head.

"Mama, what are you scheming?"

"Oh, nothing you can't handle," Sigourney tittered happily.

Even though her massive belly hindered her, Borgný's nimble fingers as a healer and a seamstress had Astrid sewed into her maypole dress faster than she could wriggle out of it. They cinched her waist in with a new cingulum. They threw a cloak over her shoulders so, when they removed the blindfold, she couldn't see her dress. She tried to peek at it under the cloak, but Sigourney slapped her fingers away and pushed her into a chair.

Borgný unbraided her hair and combed her fingers through it as Sigourney sat in front of her daughter, dabbing at her face with a hot rag. Astrid sputtered her lips to try to get her away, but Sigourney attacked her face while Borgný tied it up again. She braided it expertly, pulling the sides back into interwoven braids. But she didn't touch the lower half, letting it fall down her back in waves of gold and yellow. And over her head, the gentle rustle and scrape of a woven crown pushing over her forehead instead of the gentle wisp of her bangs and smooth leather circlet.

Sigourney stepped back and stared at her daughter, tears brimming in her eyes misshapen from her elated smile. And Astrid still had no idea what was going on, nor why the two women had just spent the better part of two hours preparing her, right down to the last stitch.

Borgný turned her around by the shoulders as Sigourney pulled forth a sheet of Gronckle Iron – the only mirror on Berk – and Sigourney unhooked Astrid's cloak. They stepped away so Astrid could see her reflection, tension high in the air.

Astrid's jaw almost fell from her body. Her cream underdress was tailored to her body, a far cry from the loose, frumpy sleeves of the dress from five years ago. But overtop, the red apron-skirt of brilliant crimson shocked her senses, her eyes blinking away any chance of hallucination. Her brooches were not of iron, but of gold, and her strand of beads consisted of Nadder teeth naturally lost. Her cingulum was a braid of scarlet and sapphire strands, and the necklace around her neck had the crest of Berk carved into it. She brushed her fingertips over it, lost for words as her eyes flicked up to her clean face, her loose and wavy hair, and her crown.

Her flower crown, woven beautifully with vines fresh with the emerald mark of rainwater; snowberries, and familiar mauve _blåveis_ and pale yellow _kusymre_ made her glare. And as it all came into a rush, she grabbed her apron skirt, snapping her head down, almost throwing her crown from her head.

"This – these are the Haddock colours!" she cried. "I-I can't wear this –"

"Stoick brought the fabric to me," Sigourney admitted gleefully. "All of this, he commissioned. For you."

Astrid fumbled with the necklace, the Berk crest blinding her. "B-but only members –"

"If you don't leave now, you'll miss the maypole dance," Borgný said quickly. She turned Astrid on her heel and pushed her out the door.

"Wait!" Astrid cried. But Sigourney grabbed her arm and pulled her up the pathway to the meadow, her smile staining and straining her face. "Mama!"

Sigourney said nothing as the pair of them ran up the hill, straggling behind the stragglers. And when Astrid stumbled into the meadow, everyone turned, cheering her arrival and toasting her. Borgný waddled in behind her, content with walking at her own pace, as the crowd parted. Her mother gave her an encouraging push down the path, and Astrid carefully walked down it, wary and self-conscious. And at the end of the path, Hiccup beamed at her, giving her a wink as she glared at him, helplessly smiling like a fool.

So much for keeping their relationship a secret.

The crowd kept cheering as Hiccup offered his hand to her, the maypole looming overhead. She timidly put her hand in his.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking at the crowd surrounding them. "Hiccup –"

"She's here!" Stoick bellowed, laughing whole-heartedly. He bumbled up to the pair as men and women quietly took up the maypole ribbons in their hands, giggling and watching the chief in awe as he turned to address the whole crowd.

"Didn't I say she'd look great in the Haddock colours?"

Astrid blushed as Hiccup gave her hand a squeeze. More people clapped and cheered. And she become entirely focussed on the fact that the dragon riders were all standing in the front row, smiling like buffoons, and that Sigourney was standing next to Stoick as an equal.

"What are our parents doing?" Astrid whispered to Hiccup, who just laughed and shook his head.

"It's not them you need to worry about, my lady."

And while she was distracted, staring at Hiccup's father and her mother whispering to one another, Hiccup knelt at her feet, clasping her hand. The entire crowd gasped, most unaware and uninformed. Astrid turned and gasped loudly when she saw Hiccup on his knee, his crooked half-grin sending fire into her veins. She moved to cover her mouth, unsure of what to do or say, the feeling in her gut taking over her body.

Only this time, it wasn't a bad omen.

"Astrid Sigourney Hofferson," Hiccup started, causing another stir among the crowd. "I have loved you all my life, and I have hidden it from the world. You have been by my side through the change of Berk. Through the Edge, through the altercations with Dagur, and with Alvin. You showed me that no matter what, no matter how I feel, there is nothing I can't do with you by my side."

He clasped her hands with both of his, throwing all his effort into keep his voice strong.

"When I lost my leg, you helped me back up. You refused to leave me to my own destruction; you showed me how to stand tall once more. And ever since, I have vowed to myself to never, _ever_ , stop trying, and I will continue to until the day the Valkyries welcome me."

Astrid smiled a tearful laugh, sniffing back her tears. Hiccup smiled up at her, worshipped her, loved her in front of the clans, their secrecy tossed into the wind like a rogue flag.

Hiccup shakily continued, staying with her for strength. "My father offers you the Haddock colours. Your mother offers me the Hofferson's. And I offer you my life, my love, and I hope… that once I stand up," he said in a suddenly worried tone that made the crowd laugh as he peered down at his updated prosthetic before looking back up, "that you will dance with me like you did all those years ago. A-and I understand that this may be too much, but I'm willing to wait. But… this Ostara, I _knew_ I had to ask you, for it was you that told me it was a time for rebirth and new beginnings. New stories. And I had to be brave."

Astrid sucked in a breath as Stoick wrapped an arm around Sigourney's shoulders proudly.

"Astrid… will you marry me?"

The question had been said, heard by all the gods above and beyond; the villagers young and old; the dragon riders, the clan members, the dragons in the Hangar; Toothless and Stormfly upon the platform, holding their breaths.

And Astrid repeated it over and over again in her head, her lungs begging her to breath but her heart making her forget entirely. She stared into Hiccup's forest-green eyes, her heart flipping over inside her.

 _"Do you know where you are?"_ she asked herself, as if the back of her mind knew she was frozen in time and space.

 _"What do you see?"_

Hiccup. All she could see was Hiccup, looking up at her lovingly, desperately, shamelessly. His unkempt hair, the two braids she braided in to her hair the last time they made love just a few days ago in the secrecy of her house on the Edge.

 _"What do you feel?"_

…Love. And nothing but. And a longing to jump, jump into the unknown, into his arms, into the air.

"Yes," he whispered, her voice silent. She nodded, smiling and hiccupping a sob. Gods, from a girl that could kill a man with her bare hands, she didn't expect to be so overcome with emotions as she was now. "Yes!"

The crowd exploded as Astrid pulled Hiccup to his feet so she could embrace him. She buried her face in his chest so no one could see or hear her cry, and Hiccup held her, rocking her. Stoick and Sigourney rushed them, holding them, two broken families joining as one. And the rest of the dragon riders joined in, surrounding everyone is arms and chests and faces as the musicians started their dance.

And as Astrid seized the maypole ribbon, the red of her overdress a symbol of unity and love, she and Hiccup danced around each other, locking their ribbons together into the turning cage. And though they had to dance around others, they refused to look away from each other, ready to start the rest of their lives, weaving the ribbons around the maypole. And when the last dance began, they stood under the interwoven ribbons as Hiccup readjusted the crown he had made for her, kissing her forehead.

Astrid pulled a breath into her breathless body. "You can never have a normal Ostara, can you?" she asked, laughing as the cage of ribbons twisted above them, celebrating them.

"At least I didn't abandon you this time."

"Pff, no, you just did _this_ instead."

Hiccup pulled her close to him, touching the tip of her nose with hers.

"I'm going to kiss you," he announced proudly. "In front of _everyone_."

"Is that a threat?" she snickered.

Hiccup chuckled and smiled.

"Come here, you."

And he placed his lips over hers for all of Berk to see, changing the face of Ostara for the couple for the second time under the cage of ribbons that tied them to their home, symbolizing the next phase of their lives in a web of colours.

 _ **-FIN-**_


End file.
